


The Queen of Veranice

by TeriTheTacticalUnicorn



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Inspired by Music, Inspired by Real Events
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:28:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22562512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeriTheTacticalUnicorn/pseuds/TeriTheTacticalUnicorn
Summary: Never did Emma Sterling think she would be more than a sheep herder’s daughter. Never did she think she would have to bury the man she thought her father before her eighteenth birthday. Never for a moment did she think she was a Queen in hiding. Until one Fall evening when she receives a royal summons...This story is about Emma Sterling, A young woman raised in a small farming village in the Kingdom of Veranice in the year 1806. This story is a completely Original headcanon, but the ‘Queen in Hiding’ prompt I have taken from the Show Reign and the early years of Mary, Queen of Scots life. There will be drama, a wonderful Veranician season and so many potential LOVE INTERESTS! I will be watching the comments to see who MY READERS are rooting for to win the heart of the Queen of Veranice, and her hand.
Relationships: TBD - Relationship
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	The Queen of Veranice

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING!: This story is written as though it takes place in London in the 1800’s. Note that times were different, Women married and bore children at a younger age and both women and commoners had a MUCH harder life. This story may contain scenes of Non-Consensual sexual violence (Not Guaranteed, but it will be mentioned) and violence in General as it happened quite often in that time period as well as the mention of “Houses of Ill-Repute” Brothels were a common thing as were married men taking mistresses. If any of these themes from this time period are triggering, I advise you not to read this.
> 
> This story is inspired by a number of songs, the first being 'Silent Scream' by Anna Blue

**Chapter One:** I'm Nobody

  
  
  


Emma stood in the small cemetery just outside her village in a long, simple, black dress she kept for such an occasion. First her mother Gwyn, when she was but five. Now her father, Richard. His death was expected, he had yellow fever for some time. She watched as the Baker’s son, Arnau, the Seamstress’ husband, Lukas, and four of the Thompson boys, lowered her father’s coffin into the six foot hole next to her mother’s headstone.

Mrs. Elise Thompson comforted the young woman who stood tall, blinking back harsh, stinging tears as she watched her father finally resting next to his beloved. It didn’t take long, it was raining and people, though mournful, did not prefer to be soaked through to the bone for chill to set in. When Pastor Lucius was finished, Mrs. Thompson ushered Emma into her clothing shop, offering a hot cup of tea, and light company.

In earnest, she didn’t wish to be left to her own devices as she felt numb and sorrowful. Her blonde hair lay over her left shoulder in a long, sopping braid, her black gown a simple thing, made for cold days and working in a field. As disheveled as she may have been, Emma held her composure as she took tea with her mother’s dearest friend. Lady Elise Thompson was the Dowager Duchess of Vynelle, a widow, and the most worldly woman Emma knew. She did not care for the running of her household, no, she let her son Henry, Duke of Vynelle since his two elder brother abdicated the role because of their choice of wives, deal with that now. Emma took her lessons with the Dowager Countess still; embroidery, painting, piano lessons, she’d even borrow novels from the Duchy on occasion with leave from her father’s employer. 

Under the Thompsons, Vynelle flourished. Crops were currently being harvested, animals being taken to slaughter for the winter, and families gathering for the end of the Veranician season. 

Emma always felt different, though. As if she belonged somewhere else. She knew girls her age were married, some had children already. But her father stressed that she was to take her lessons, marriage could come later. 

  
  


***

  
  


Two months had passed and fall was coming to a close as the cold threatened snow. She was sitting in her new dress behind Mrs. Thompson’s dress shop counter with a new novel when a well-dressed man walked in. “Sorry miss, I am looking for the Dowager Countess Thompson. She wrote to the Prince and I am here with his reply.” The smartly dressed man said as he gave Emma a once-over.

“I will get her for you.” Emma said politely before disappearing behind a gold chiffon curtain the Dowager Countess hand hung between the main shop and the back office and workspace.

“I am sorry to disturb you ma’am, but there is a man asking for you by name in the shop.” Emma said as she curtsied to Mrs. Thompson. She pulled her maroon shawl from a chair and wrapped herself in it as she awaited Mrs. Thompson.

“Ah, yes. I have been awaiting a reply for nearly a fortnight. Come Emma.” The elderly woman said before taking Emma’s arm in her own and leading her back into the shop. “Ser Ruxbury, how marvelous of His Royal Highness to finally reply to my _urgent_ missive. I assumed he would be more… serious… in this instance.” 

“His Royal Highness sends his greatest apologies, ma’am, he only read the missive yesterday as it was not brought directly to his attention as it should have been.” Ser Ruxbury said, the small hint of sarcasm left his voice as he gave Emma another once over, almost as if she seemed familiar. 

“Emma, dear. We should have a talk. How about some tea?” Mrs. Thompason asked as she smiled weakly. 

“I would not wish to impose My Lady.” Emma said, her eyes finally looking away from the blue and gold badge on Ser Ruxbury’s chest. 

“That is just it, Emma, you could never impose where you are wanted, nor do you ever need to take orders you do not agree with. You’re going with Ser Ruxbury here, to the Capital.” Mrs. Thompson said just before disappearing through the curtains for a few moments, returning with a sealed letter addressed to Emma. She broke the gold and blue wax seal and read the letter to herself, almost fainting.

  
  


“ _My dear Emmaline,_

_You are almost seventeen, my sweetest treasure. If you are reading this, you have been sent away for your safety and I am no longer amongst the living._

_You are The Queen of Veranice, Emmaline. If you are reading this then I have died and you have been crowned at only nine days old. I am sending you to the Vynelle Duchy, Duke and Duchess Thompson are wonderful people, and wonderful parents to their four children. I entrust your safety to them in the hopes you grow to be the wonderful woman, and Queen, that I know in my heart you will be._

_I love you, my sweetest. Forever and Always._

_Your Father, King Gregory II”_

  
  


“My dear! Are you quite alright?” Mrs. Thompson asked as Ser Ruxbury grabbed Emma’s hand to steady her.

“This has to be a mistake, my father’s name was Richard, and he was a sheep herder. I’m nobody of real importance.” Emma said lightly as tears ran down her porcelain skin. 

“There is no mistake, Your Majesty. My father told me about it just last year. How our Queen was somewhere, but no one knew where she had been hidden away. Your twin brother, Prince Ernest, awaits your arrival.” Ser Ruxbury said as he bowed to her.

“Twin brother? Then why isn’t he King?” Emma asked, now infuriated that so many people knew about this, but she did not.

“You’re the eldest, and by all rights, the crowned Queen.” Mrs. Thompson said as she sat on a chaise longue. 

“I do not know anything about being a Queen. But it explains the years of lessons. Alright, but only if my friend Lady Arleigh is allowed to accompany me.” Emma said as she fixed her posture and stood stock straight as a lady should. 

Ruxbury nodded, informing a runner of Emma’s wishes and bowed as he opened the door for her, leading her to a black and gold carriage; her friend, Lady Arleigh Thompson, the only girl in a house of ten brothers, was already waiting by the door to the carriage. 

“Mother, I hope you do approve of my leaving.” Arleigh said as her mother followed Ser Ruxbury out.

“You are going to be a Lady in Waiting, of course I approve, Arleigh.” Mrs. Thompson said as she ran a hand down her daughter’s chocolate brown curls and gave her a quick hug goodbye. Both young women were helped into the carriage and began to chatter away. 

They waited as the Dowager Countess had trunks loaded onto their carriage, and had another carriage brought up from the duchy for even more. After an hour, they ladies were off towards the Capital.

“I don’t know how to run a country, Arleigh. What if I get it wrong?” Emma asked as she watched as the countryside went by through her window. 

“Believe it or not, you know more than most how it is to live in an impoverished household. Vynelle is just one of the more prominent duchies in the Kingdom. And even our home has it’s problems, Emma. You will do the throne justice, I think.” Arleigh said as she offered her hand to Emma in a show of support.

By nightfall, the carriage received a roaring welcome into Veranice proper. People lined the streets, cheering for a Queen that hasn’t been present for nearly seventeen years. Emma was in awe as she watched people from all walks of life came from whatever they were doing to welcome her.

The palace was grand, grander than any manor home in Vynelle. Golden deer flanked the massive iron gates, which opened as their carriage eased through them onto gravel. 

They were met at the stone steps by a serious-looking woman in a black dress and white lace collar, and a young man in blue and gold Veranician livery. Guards were standing on the steps off to one side at attention as Emma, a small, sixteen year old woman with bright blonde hair to her waist wearing a colorful dress and soft golden slippers, stepped out of the gilded carriage. Everyone, including Arleigh, bowed as she wrapped her shawl around herself like a shield.

“Your Majesty, I am Mrs. Fredricks, the head housekeeper. This is Mr. Marlenster, The Butler. We await your commands.” The serious woman said as she raised from her bow and motioned at the young man.

“Welcome back, Lord Ruxbury.” A passing lady said as she made for a side door. Ruxbury, Emma learned, was the second son of Viscount and Viscountess Ruxbury. Their family had helped in hiding Emma during the grain riots that killed her father.

She had no idea what was in store for her life past the next few days as she stepped into a beautiful candlelit vestibule, her arm hooked into Arleigh's. 

**To be continued...**


End file.
